A New Friend

seat

Photo: duffylondon.com

 

There needs to be an extra chair now at the table, another place setting, extra fork. The bath requires extra towels. Reading choices necessitate an added pause. There are lively conversations from the bedroom, laughter, whispered dialogue, deep monologues. A seat to save in rides, a window-or-middle deliberation. Opinions of a first-line advisor, a determined intermediate, a confidante.

Granted, he is secretive, selective, and exclusive. It doesn’t mean he isn’t a good friend.

Accepting him is fact, not question. Get used to it. He’s there. He may not show up to explain, but he will not be ignored or shunned. Be nice. He has deep feelings. He has needs. A keen mind.

Should not matter that he is a dragon-human made of magic. Invisible to all but a certain little one.

 

For The Daily Post

Brassy Doesn’t Mean Strong

 

touchn2btouched.tumblr.com

touchn2btouched.tumblr.com

 

Strength doesn’t lie in the pushy. Cocky does not powerful say. The shameless and showy lead no one ashore, just astray.

True power is held in alliance. In humility, empathy, care. Strength is achieved through the weaving of strands, not their fraying. Accordance is what grows a real, lasting greatness. Obstinacy makes success decay.

When the few rue the day, may the sensible many hold light, lead the way.

 

For The Daily Post

Dis-pro-portion

radiate pinterest

photo: Pinterest

 

There is more good than bad in our world,

yet often bad shouts louder.

There’s more that’s beautiful than not,

though ugliness might steal the hour.

Love holds truth far more than hate,

and radiates the brighter.

So … be mindful of the disproportion …

as dark creeps in to dim what’s lighter.

And know:

Hearts will out-sing cacophony when led by hope,

even if fear may prowl the farther.

 

 

For The Daily Post

In the Buff

 

He is an avid little streaker.

The first skills he had learned, a peanut little newborn, was how to shake off hats and kick off socks. These followed soon by talents for wriggling out of diapers, twisting out of bottoms, and shrugging off his tops.

He is a master of no-clothing.

An expert a-la-nude.

He chortles as you chase him.

He protests when he’s clothed.

He’s beaming when his skin meets air.

He’s glowing in the buff.

His mama is exasperated.

His da is not amused.

Grandpa laughs and names the child “Dote gan a stitch”

Grandma, “mo Stoirin (shore-een) Selkie.”

 

 

 

For The Daily Post

Radiance

She lights up every room with her smile.

He effervescents joy in a dimple.

She casts love spells all around her.

He melts everyone to a puddle.

She makes your heart sing.

He ropes your soul in.

Their laughter makes right

Glow full bright

From a fizzle.

Their giggles shine rainbows

On sorrow

And drizzle.

They heal hope.

Luminesce peace.

They remind why it matters

We take care

To Insist.

(All photos from Pinterest)

For The Daily Post

Reprieve

compassion

We all need reprieve

From war

From cruelty

From violence

Driven by power

Urged by greed.

We all need reprieve

From sorrow

From loss

And worry

A release

From need.

May we reach out in care

To spare

Another

And let decency

And hope

Be freed.

 

 

For The Daily Post

Catapult Care

hands-and-heart

When terror strikes … All blast of cowardice, in a bluster of dark soul, empty of faith or humanity: Catapult care, not hate. Hold kindness, not panic. Seek healing, not division.

Those who attack children, who aim to maim, to kill, to harm – they aren’t powerful. Their hatred makes them weak. They hold no values. They rob the lives of others in pretense of strength. Their hate exposes the emptiness of anything they pretend to care for.

The ones who celebrate the terror’s aftermath (and sadly some do seek to) are no better. They broadcast their own weakness by aiming to amplify panic. Their words become a badge of a spirit blighted, a heart polluted, a mind infected. With hate.

Let us know it for what it is … but let us not spread it further.
Terror thrives on helplessness and violence. It feeds on panic. It seeks the refuse of division. Those are its only currencies.

But we have better ones. We have real powers.
Let us celebrate and amplify: The energies of care, healing, and kindness; the strength that comes from sharing burdens; the forces of compassion and empathy. These are the nullifying opposites of harm and violence.

Let us come together, so all those hurt and hurting be held in the light, empowered by love, supported by healing. Let us hold up the true might of humanity.

Terror cannot prevail in light, for it skulks in darkness.
It cannot prevail in courage, for it lacks it.
It cannot prevail in care, for it has none.

But we do.
And we can.
Prevail.

My love and thoughts to all in the UK, and the victims of terror everywhere. May the last breath of terror.
Soon be vanquished
Into light.
Amen.

 

 

For The Daily Post